Klaustrophobic. Schizophrenic. Minimalistic noises from the darkest depths of a dying cyborgs hard-drive. Strangulated sounds, floating, imperturbable patterns coated in the muck of your own dead braincells. Scratching bleeps in the heights of frequencies, which can only be described as mean. Not harsh, not wild, not loud. Mean. Sickening tension. Gloomily roaming Distortion. The EEG of a divinely unknown creature, ridden by incredible guilt, turned into sound.